Their Thing
by Dobby's Socks
Summary: "Hey Barry, when do you go jogging?" Because Barry doesn't know how to say no, Iris ends up semi-involved in a certain aspect of his life. He's not really complaining. Set in some ambiguous time before the midseason finale with minor references up through 1x08, onesided Barry/Iris, Iris/Eddie, appearances from Joe and the STAR labs crew, and mentions of Team Arrow


**This one-shot was inspired by a line in Halfblood With A SIG And A Pen's story "Iris Knows", which you should definitely give a try. In the meantime, though, I hope you enjoy this!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Their Thing**

"Hey Barry, when do you go jogging?" The question from Iris was so sudden and unexpected he almost fumbled the test tube he'd been holding. She'd come to visit and, in her words, watch him work his nerd-mojo at the crime lab, though he suspected an ongoing case her boyfriend was out working on had given her unplanned free time. At the least, she still relied on him.

They'd been sitting in companionable silence for some time, her making notes for a blog post and him analyzing a backlog of evidence for a number of cases, and so somewhat thrown he looked over with a, "Huh?"

The roll of her eyes let him know how smooth that response had been. Her smile was forgiving though as she clarified, "You said you'd taken up jogging so you can get away with all the eating you've been doing lately." He nodded. "So when do you jog?"

"…Why?" That had probably come out sounding more suspicious than he'd intended. Barry couldn't really help it. He'd told Iris he was jogging to cover for some of the unusual habits he'd had to pick up in the wake of becoming a metahuman. Jogging had been something of a joke to himself, pathetic as that seemed in hindsight. But he really couldn't afford to let Iris pry into the details of what he did with his free time.

His best friend remained oblivious to his inner turmoil, however, and gave a shrug. "I just thought, I complain enough about pigging out at Jitters so maybe I should actually do something about it. But jogging by myself sounds like no fun so I felt like it'd be nice if we could do it together, you know?"

He felt his stomach flip-flop, simultaneously pleasant and unpleasant. Here Iris was, inviting him once more into parts of her life she didn't share with anyone else, actively seeking him out. He should have felt like the luckiest man in the world. But with how busy he was lately, could he make that kind of commitment? Half the reason he'd been able to console himself over losing her to Eddie—aside from the repeated mantra of _she's happy_—was the fact that his double-life didn't leave too much room for personal relationships.

Though it pained him, he hedged, "Oh, well I don't really have a schedule or anything."

"And that's the easiest way to quit things," Iris said knowingly. "Come on, we'll start slow. How about Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays around three? That'll leave me some time before Jitters to freshen up."

Barry winced. Afternoons were usually unspoken S.T.A.R. labs time. He could sense another uncomfortable principal's-office-lecture with Dr. Wells coming on. "Why not the morning?" He suggested.

Iris laughed. "Nice try, Bear, but I know you better than anyone. You'll oversleep and then you'll be even later to work than you already are." He grudgingly had to concede that point. "This'll be fun," she wheedled. "You and me, no judgment, just working off all that ice cream and brownies we eat."

There was a smile on her lips that matched the one determinedly spreading across his face; they'd both known there was only one possible end to this conversation.

"For the record," he stalled for a moment longer, "the brownies are all you."

"Hey!" She laughed and pushed his shoulder, which in turn made him bump the lab station he'd been working at. It took some high-speed maneuvering to ensure none of the instruments or vials tipped over onto the floor. "Whoops! Clearly I should not be a chemist's assistant," she remarked and stood while grabbing her purse. "I got to get to class anyway, so I'll see you Monday?"

He looked at her with a smile. "Yeah, Monday." Barry waited until she walked out of view before dropping back into his chair, hands sliding through his hair to rest at the base of his neck. What had he gotten himself into?

OoO

"Ok, you of all people should not be laughing." Joe didn't seem to agree with that logic, as he kept right on doing so. Barry buried his face in his hands, elbows resting on his desk.

"Sorry, sorry," Joe said in a tone colored with unapologetic giggles. "It's just—you, jogging? That's like putting a fastball pitcher in the Little Leagues!"

He removed his hands in order to speak but directed the words at the solid wood surface he was leaning on. "That's not the problem. I mean, it's probably a problem, but it's not _the_ problem." When he looked to the left at Joe, his surrogate father had sobered and was waiting for him to continue. "It's just like this big, blaring reminder that I'm lying to her that I didn't really need."

Joe was looking at him with sympathy, but his head was already slowly starting to shake back and forth. "Barry—"

"Can't we just tell her?"

"No," the detective stressed. "Look, this all just proves it's working. She has no idea who the Flash is, and this way you two can still be close, see? It'd be too dangerous otherwise." He could see that the thought of Iris finding out any more than she already did, of her or anyone else looking further into things, terrified the older man.

So Barry nodded, defeated. "Ok." He had to wonder just how close he and Iris really were these days when he couldn't let her know about the changes that were rapidly consuming his life and she wasn't part of, not in a way that made either of them truly happy at least.

But maybe they still had chances to spend time doing things as Iris had said, together.

OoO

He showed up at their rendezvous point in Central City Park to find Iris already there, patiently waiting like so many times before. Even in a tank top, yoga pants, and sneakers with her hair pulled up in a high ponytail, she was beautiful.

"Sorry I'm late," Barry called to her.

She just grinned. "Why do you think I told you three? I just got here ten minutes ago. Face it, Barry Allen, I know all your tricks."

He hoped his laugh didn't sound forced. "Yeah, Yeah I guess you do." He'd drawn up to stand in front of her and shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants for lack of anything better to do.

"So," Iris was looking at him expectantly. Barry's brain scrambled to find the why. "We just start then? Or do you stretch first?"

Oh, right. He was supposed to have done this before. "Um, no. Usually I just sort of…go." At least that was a truth, the image of going through some stretches before heading to a bank robbery or after another metahuman absurd. He allowed himself a smile as she readied her stance beside him.

"Ready?" He nodded, and she grinned back at him before facing forward. "Go!"

It was as if her command flipped whatever unconscious switch that existed in his brain and everything slowed around him and Barry knew, he _knew_, that if he took off running now, there was no way he could keep to Iris' pace.

So he tripped.

"Oof!" Hitting the ground at that kind of velocity knocked the wind out of him for a moment, which was further compounded when Iris turned back and crouched down in front of him, hands warm and solid on his shoulders as she helped him sit back up.

"Are you ok?" She looked worried yet bemused, and he had to shake his head to clear it.

"Uh, yeah. Just tripped. Guess my shoe laces weren't tied right." By the time she looked down at them, it was true anyway. She gave him a sort of fondly pitying smile and stayed with him while he retied the laces. They clasped hands to pull each other back up and Iris squeezed his tightly once before letting go.

"Ok, and again!"

A fastball pitcher in the Little Leagues, Joe had said. Maybe this _was_ going to be the problem.

OoO

Iris was slow. It was a reality that Barry found almost painful to admit, even just in his head, because the only sort of thoughts he'd ever had about Iris West before in his life were nothing if not complimentary. But Iris, like every other person on the planet, was now incredibly slow compared to him.

At first it was crushingly disappointing, heading down to the park three times a week for this activity that for him was futile. He couldn't help feeling a sort of apathy for it, like purposefully throwing a board game in order to let a sibling win. Only Barry had never been the one throwing the games, and now here he was finally good at something—and he couldn't tell her. Couldn't show her how amazing it all was. That he was. He wanted to be amazing, if only for her.

But working to maintain Iris' speed had its advantages. He got to watch as her arms pumped, her legs pushed one after the other against the ground propelling her forward, her ponytail swung in a dark shining arc from side to side, and her eyes locked determinedly on some goal set ahead that he knew without doubt she would reach. And Barry Allen had the same thought he'd had many times before: she could do anything. No matter what sort of metahumans he came up against, what sort of abilities he mastered himself, Iris West was and would remain forever the most amazing person he'd ever had the pure fortune of meeting.

And then, every so often, she'd let her gaze flick to the side to meet his own stare. She always smiled. He thought, just maybe, Iris didn't need to know everything to find him amazing on her own.

OoO

He hurried—at a normal, human perspective—down the steps from his lab two at a time, dropping files and printouts of results on the various desks of the bullpen. It was Wednesday and he was late, or at least later than usual, but he'd had to head out to a crime scene that morning which had left a backlog of work needing to be done before he took a break until the evening. He'd texted Iris about it and it couldn't be helped, but Barry couldn't help feeling a little guilty. This was the first of their jogging sessions he'd had to cancel.

Which was why he was surprised to find his best friend perched on the corner of her father's desk, dressed ready for running. She and Joe both turned at his approach. "Hey, Bear."

"Iris." He readily returned her hug in greeting. "Look, I'm really sorry—"

"It's fine, you and I both know work things happen," she waved away his apology.

"You know," Joe spoke up, reaching out and plucking the last file from his grasp, "if this is that analysis on that residue at the crime scene I asked for, you could head out for now. Might leave enough time to get a lap in." His tone had remained neutral throughout, but his eyes practically twinkled as both their faces lit up.

"Ok, let me just go get my stuff. Actually, I'll just change." Barry stopped himself from simply zipping back up to his lab to do so. It was a narrow thing, but he did. He was more hesitant upon returning to see Joe gone and Eddie instead speaking to Iris, a slight frown marring the other man's features.

"You said you were going to be busy most afternoons."

"I am, I go jogging with—Barry!"

The detective's eyes had found him as Iris was speaking, and she'd looked over her shoulder to check, her explanation turning into more of an announcement of his presence.

"Hey Eddie," he felt it best to acknowledge.

The other man's smile wasn't strained, but it also wasn't exactly warm. "Been a bit heavy on the athletics lately, Allen."

"I'm working on my speed," he replied, and that at least garnered a laugh from Eddie.

"Ready to race on over then?" Iris teased.

"Sure," he agreed. He couldn't quite watch as she leaned in to kiss her boyfriend and confirm some other date and time they were meeting up for. But not even that could totally dampen his spirits as they left the precinct together. For three afternoons a week, Iris was busy, was unavailable to anyone but him, purely by her own choice. Barry was lighter than air.

OoO

It was an unremarkable Monday as they were taking their cool-down lap that Iris chose to remark, "You've gotten really good at this."

He'd been testing out his pacing, seeing just how fast he could get away with without making her realize. After all, logically he had a longer stride and supposed previous jogging experience. And perhaps he'd been puzzling over a current case and whether its oddities were metahuman related or something else, which had made him forget to keep his breathing labored like hers.

It wasn't as if Iris hadn't ever offered him praise before. Her constant warm support had been a balm ever since he'd moved in with the Wests. But to hear her take notice of the gift that he, Barry Allen, had been chosen to have, after everything she'd seen of the Flash?

It was like showing off his abilities to Felicity for the first time, only better, _and his shoes weren't on fire_. And this was only a taste, a little peek at how she might feel or react if he ever got to tell her he was literally the fastest man alive. If only.

So he let himself revel in this little moment. "Want to see how fast I can go backwards?"

OoO

"Mr. Allen, how kind of you to join us," Dr. Wells addressed him while Caitlin and Cisco collected the few papers he'd managed to whip up on arrival.

Barry had the grace to look sheepish. "I know, I didn't mean to be late but—"

"I trust your jogging sessions with Miss West are going well."

His mouth dropped open momentarily in surprise. "Geez, how often do you and Joe talk?" Cisco was snickering at his current plight while Caitlin had a critical eyebrow raised. The older man's lips had curved into something of a smile, but of course that didn't always mean Dr. Wells was amused. "I mean, I guess yeah, they're ok."

"I'm not so sure." When Barry only titled his head to the side, the scientist wheeled a couple inches closer. "Barry, while I certainly encourage you to spend time with the people important to you, I can't help but worry as to how your chosen activity might affect your progress."

"What, like making myself run like a normal person will affect my superspeed?" He summarized, dubious. "I thought we agreed that it's all just in my head, that I control it."

"But by pacing yourself to someone else, you are actively suppressing your abilities, your potential."

"If I didn't actively suppress my speed, we couldn't even be having this conversation!" He pointed out heatedly. "But we are because I know when and when not to pace myself to everyone else." It probably sounded arrogant judging by the way Dr. Wells continued to calmly stare him down. He hated arguing with the man.

Fortunately Caitlin interceded. "We know, Barry, but there are some things that humans and metas can't control as easily. Muscle memory, habits once they form. We're just concerned that if you set your pace with Iris as a sort of baseline, it might slow down or reverse your progress in the lab. And that could get you hurt out there."

That wasn't even remotely close to fair.

"I can't just quit on Iris," he finally said. _I can't help myself_, he did his best to plead with his eyes. The way she looked at him like he was beyond hopeless was a good indication she'd understood.

But it was Dr. Wells who gave a nod to Cisco and a resigned, "We didn't think you would. In that case, there's something I'd like you to try as a sort of compromise."

The engineer had walked over to one of the many work tables in the main lab room and opened a case. Barry zipped over to take a look. "Leg weights," Cisco told him with a grin. "This way you'll still be able to run with Iris, but it'll actually be an effort to keep up."

"Yeah, hate to disappoint you, dude, but I don't think five pounds is going to make much difference." He tried to snatch one up in demonstration, but only managed it for a moment before gravity unforgivably tugged it and his arm downward, slamming against the table with a resounding bang he was amazed didn't leave a dent. "Whoa! Seriously who'd you get these from, Oliver?"

"Nope. They've just been Cisco'd," his friend informed him proudly. "Extremely dense, but compact. So get on the treadmill, we got to see if these work."

Maybe he shouldn't have been so worried about his friends after all.

OoO

They'd become a thing. Well, not a _thing_, not the way he'd been hoping and wishing for for what seemed almost forever. But every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday sometime between three and four in the afternoon they were one of those things to be seen in Central City Park. And others had noticed. Other things.

Like the old woman who seemed to be perpetually sat on a bench, sometimes reading a book, sometimes feeding birds because this was Central _where it's sunny all the time_ of course. Only today there was an elderly man sat beside her as well with a walker in front of him, perhaps finally strong enough to accompany the woman on her ritual, and the thought brought a smile to his face. There was a father and his three daughters who often passed them on their unicycles, _unicycles_ of all things, like a bizarre line of ducks. The first time it'd ever happened Barry and Iris had looked at each other and broken into a giggle fit, making jogging a bit difficult for a while. There were other joggers as well, following the same track as them or coming around it the other direction.

They all waved, or nodded, or smiled at each other in greeting, just part of the normal routine. Yet these relative strangers, who knew not their names or a single thing about them, except that they were a thing, a pair, a _couple_ of people just going for a jog made him somehow giddy inside. And he wouldn't mind being at Iris' side feeling that way forever.

Of course that meant it was absolutely necessary for someone to call him that exact moment. They both slowed their pace as he fished it out of a pocket and tried not to sound too annoyed. "Hey, what's up?"

"Robbery in progress at the bank on Halket and 3rd Street," Cisco informed him succinctly, and ok maybe that was worth being interrupted for.

"Right, I'll head over." He placed the phone back and then looked apologetically at Iris. "Sorry, work thing, I got to go."

"Called out to a scene?" She guessed, and yeah, he probably would be later, after. "Be careful."

And it wasn't said in the same worried or over-cautioning tone as his team, just a simple little reminder like she knew already he'd be fine, he'd come back to her. She'd always believed in him. And somehow he didn't think that'd change, even if she knew.

"Sure," he told her, and she nodded, satisfied, and took up her normal pace because of course she wasn't letting some silly thing like him leaving stop her. Barry slowed even further and watched her go for a moment. Just before she rounded a bend in the path, she looked back at him and smiled.

It stayed with him all through the next run.

**Yeah, so something of a situational piece spawned by a silly, fluffy idea. I don't know, hopefully it'll help for people suffering from the midseason hiatus, particularly the WestAllen fans out there who are having it kind of hard. I have some other ideas floating around in my brain though I don't know when those will get written. Let me know what you thought of this one, though. Thanks for reading and please review!**


End file.
